


Angel of Death

by Lovedawn44



Category: Original Work
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:27:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26481145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovedawn44/pseuds/Lovedawn44
Summary: Rated what it is because of the murder plot. If you're okay with that, I invite you to readAzrael believes that the human race is full of sinners. That they are nothing but dirty, lying, murderous bugs that inhabit the Earth. And she is ready to kill them all to free herself and the planet of filth around her. Will she be able to reach her goal? Or will she find that things aren't always as they seem? Read to find out.This is a WARNING!If you do not like blood, death and sometimes even graphic death sense DO NOT READ. i suggests that if this is the case, you find another work to read.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rough copy here, so i am very sorry. I will edit when i can, but please feel free to point anything out so i can fix it! anything helps!  
> Thank you for choosing to read Angel of Death! I hope you like it!

_Letter sent to The NYPD and several Newspapers_

Sup Losers. I'm Azrael and you're all going to die.

I don't mean eventually, well yes, I _do_ mean eventually, but I also mean that I'm going to be the one who kills you. It will be my my hand that you die.

Whether it be by gun, knife, rope, etc, you will die because it is my will. One by one, By the dozen. Maybe even a building full now and again

You _WILL_ die and _I_ will be the one to kill you.

Why?

Because I can. Because it's _fun_. Because each and every one of you are sinners. Rotten people who are poisoning our world.

You will never see me coming, but you will fear my arrival. You will never catch me, but trust me, you will try.

Best of luck to you, because tonight, one of you sinners will die. One less rotten person, a fraction of a percent of the poison gone from our society.

**_You have been warned_ **

Take it to heart. This is not a school shooting or a bomb threat. This is **murder**. This is justice,

I am an Angel of Death and no longer will I sit by and watch as you destroy.

No one is safe. You will die, but first I will watch you try to run and hide.

➻➻➻➻

Eric Kingsley. Victim Number One. What, you may ask, has Mr. Kingelsy done?

Well I'll tell you.

Eric has lied, cheated and stolen. He lied to his family, cheated on a loving wife and stole a bright future from his daughter.

I feel as if I should clarify a few things.

Eric is thirty. His wife, Katlyn Kingsley, we'll return to later. His daughter is twenty four, a college honor roll student on her way to becoming a renowned scientist. Abigail Kingsley was well loved and set up for a wonderful life. A life that was cruelly stolen from her. Eric's first crime was lying to these two women, which is closely linked to his second crime : cheating.

You see, Mr. Kingsley is actually living a double life. Married to two women, Alexandra being the second. Her son, Lincoln is a classmate of his half sister, Abigail.

Every other night, he lives with Alexandra and Lincoln, spending time with Katlyn and Abigail the next. This, however, is not what has doomed him to my vengeance. No, it was what he had stolen.

Abigail was once a lively girl, loved by all. Key word: " _was"_. As of three months ago, she lives in her beloved garden, which she had spent hours tending to, more fond of it than anything in the world.

Three months ago, August tenth, Abigail was studying for her midterm with Lincoln at his house when she learned of her father's double life. When Eric walked into the house, the first sight that greeted him was that of his children. He fell into a rage and dragging his daughter outside he killed her. Lincoln followed them out, trying to stop his father. Taking a shovel that was leaning against the house, Eric knocked Lincoln out as Abigail screamed. Turning on her, Eric swung the shovel again and again until her head was so bloody you couldn't see a wound and her breathing was so faint that no one could be able to tell if she was alive or not. Lincoln stirred but his waking was stopped by a few more hit of the shovel. Whether she was alive or not, Eric dragged Abigail to his car and drove her home and proceeded to bury her in the garden while Katlyn was at a bar with her girlfriends.

As he drove back to Alexandra's house, he was contacted by the hospital and told that Lincoln was in a coma and it was not expected that he should wake up any time soon.

These are his crimes. Can you truthfully tell em that he deserves life when he has taken so much? I tell you that you cannot, because even if you did, it would not stop me from doing what I am doing, which is breaking into his house at one in the morning.

For a sinner, the house he shares with Katlyn is lovely. Warm, inviting, cozy even.

His room is the third to your left when you come out of the kitchen. Katlyn is asleep next to him, peaceful.I watch Eric for a moment, allowing myself a moment to pity him. What had driven him to this life?

It didn't matter, but it's a logical question, or at least it was because I had no time to think about it as Eric turned over in his sleep. Even if this was my first kill, I wasn't stupid enough to let him see me. The clever that I had taken from the kitchen was already in my hand as I prepared for what I was about to do. Slowly, I raised the knife. He turned again, baring his throat to me. It was time.

With a sickening thump, I plunged the blade into his throat as far as I can manage. Rocking the blade back and forth to loosen it, my first kill was completed. My visit went unnoticed until the sun rose. Let's just say that Katlyn has quite a pair of lungs. I watched from a nearby building as the neighbors gathered.

"Someone call the police!" A voice of logic in the midst of chaos. And so they were called, Katlyn was taken in for a statement, though I can't imagine they were able to get much out of her. She was a mess! Her night gown was covered in her husband's blood and I would say she was barking mad by the way she fought to keep them from taking Eric away.

Needless to say, I enjoyed the show.


	2. Sinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azrael goes to Mississippi for her second target, spreading out her killing ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't like blood or graphic deaths, don't read any further. i suggests you find some other book to read. If this is not the case, feel free to continue

They doubt me. They don't think that I will kill again. That Eric was the last. What idiots!

This is just the beginning. Eric was to help me think, help me control the blood lust. He didn't matter, not to them at least. But they don't believe and that is dangerous! Very, _very_ dangerous. They will see. Soon, oh so soon they will see.

➻➻➻➻

I couldn't wait very long. The flight to Mississippi was unbearable. Fifteen hours was such a long time to wait. I didn't care if the sun was still in the sky. The chaos of Eric's death had stilled enough. My research was done and done well. I had my target.

I caught her in an alleyway behind a bookstore. She lived in Jackson, Mississippi, one thousand, one hundred and ninety-nine point eight miles away from Eric in New York. They will still doubt, but soon the puzzle will come together and they will see.

My target is a nineteen year old with hazel eyes and dark brown hair. She has the looks that I would _kill_ for.

Heh, Sorry, I had to. Anyways, right now, I am hiding behind a dumpster with a maciejowski clever. If you don't know what that is, it's this type of sword with a weird looking blade. Thick, sharp, and good for what is to be done.

I step out from my place of hiding, sword glint in what little light shone at four in the afternoon in an alley. "Hello, Ms. Swarny. What luck I have, meeting you here." My target was started, to say the least.

"Who are you? How do you know my name?" My answering laugh as malicious as I stalked towards her.

"Oh, but I know you. You're Maribell Swarny. Born on November 10th, 2011."

Maribell backed up, eyes wide and full of fear as she took in everything about me, her eyes darting between the sword in my hand and the killing calm in my eyes. I fed off the fear. Relished the way her hands shook. She begged. She pleaded."No. Please, just leave me alone!"

I herded the sinner farther back into the alley. "Why would I do that, Maribell? After all, soon it won't matter, so face your sins!" I inspected my weapon as I asked if I should list them. Then she said something that made me snap, calming myself as i readied myself to feel her blood on my hands.

"No! Leave me alone! I have done nothing!"

"Arson. Murder. Do you call that nothing, Maribell. Do you want to know why you have to die? It's because you enjoyed it," I exclaimed, not waiting for her to answer. I knew that out of everything that might have frightened her, my calm manner was at the top of that list. I readied my sword, knowing that I shouldn't stall any longer, but her response had surprised me. I had to pause, thinking over her next words.

"Then what makes you any different from me?!"

I stayed my hand. "What? What did you say?"

"I said: what makes you any different from me? If I enjoyed the deaths of those I killed, so do you!" I have to admit, she had me there.

I had to think about my answer. "I suppose I'm not, but then again, I don't deny my sins as you do." As we spoke, Maribell had backed into a wall. I could no longer wait. I thrust the maciejowski into her stomach. It sliced cleanly, my movements clean, calculated, just as every step after was. As every step before had been.

"Why?" Her last word before I twisted the clever, making her scream. I relished the pure agony in the sound. I simply loved the beauty of the way the light of life drained from her eyes as we stood their, each second lasting an eternity. I answered just before she took her final, shaky breath that held her to life. 

"Blame my father."


	3. The Ace is on the Case!

_"What makes you any different from me?"_

Maribell's last words floated around my mind, forcing me to ponder them.

My answer?

I'm not different. I am a sinner and I, too, shall die by my hand, but not before I purge the world of the virus that is the human race. I am the Angel of Death and I hold your fate in my hands.

➻➻➻➻

"Detective Jay Norman. Your next case." A file was thrown on his desk, disrupting the paperwork that he had been working on.

"Thanks, Tom. Not like I was doing anything," the detective remarks sarcastically, picking up the file. On the front was a single word: Azrael. Inside was a single letter and the witness statements and autopsies of two cases. "The Hell?"

Picking it up, he walked with a purpose to the office of his Director, Edward Noven. "Sir, what's this case that you put me on?"

"Ah, yes. 'Azrael.' It's a peculiar case. Yesterday morning, this letter was received her at the station. Already, there have been two deaths of unusual circumstances. Eric Kinglesy, killed last night in his home and Maribell Swarny this afternoon in Jackson, Mississippi. They were quite a ways apart, but I believe this 'Azrael is behind them both."

"Unusual how," Jay inquired. Mr. Noven sighed.

"Mr. Kingsley was killed with a clever taken from his kitchen and nearly decapitated. While the weapon in itself was not so unusual, the force of it was. It was personal. Ms. Swarny was an entirely different case," he continued, answering the question asked by Jay's raised eyebrow.

"She was gutted with a weapon of unknown origins. She was found in an alley not far from her home. Above her, written in her blood were the words _'Don't doubt me.'_ I want you to find this- this so called 'Angel of Death', before they kill again."

All Jay could think about was his new case. "How can you find someone you know nothing about? I don't even know their real name or have a description to go by!" Running his hands through his brown hair, he flopped back on his bed and groaned in frustration.

 _"Why give_ me _this case?" he asked his employer._

_"Because," was the response. "If anyone can solve this case, it's you, Jay."_

_'What the hell does that even mean?'_ he thought as he loosened his tight and unbuttoned his shirt. "Whatever it means," he said to the empty house, "I need to get some sleep. There is a _lot_ of headaches in my future."

The public was in a panic. Azrael's letter had been printed in the latest issue of _The Wrath_ , a newspaper dedicated to New York's crime, and every paper like it around the world.  
  


The woman herself sat in front of a television watching as every news station cautioned people against going out alone at night and told them to remain calm.

 _"The police have some of the best officers on the case,"_ the director of the New York Police Department stated. _"Every state, country and nation is on high alert and looking for this 'Azrael' as we speak, so there is no reason to panic."_ A reporter by the name of Giselle Dragoon inquired, _"How do you suppose you will catch this 'Azrael'? Our sources tell us that two people are already dead, thousands of miles apart within a twenty four hour time frame. How are you going to catch someone who seems to be everywhere at once?"_

Azrael chuckled. "Good questions"

The director deflected the question with grace. _"As I said, we have our very best on the case. That will be all the questions I will take today. Good day, ladies and gentlemen."_ He departure was followed by camera flashes and reporters shouting their questions.

"Smooth, Director, smooth," Azrael told the TV screen. "I will enjoy watching your blood drain from your body."

➻➻➻➻

Edward Noven left for Paris France three days after the press conference. Vacations didn't come often and he was determined to make this one count, even if the most important case of his career was just starting. His flight landed in Paris at ten pm on November thirteenth, 2030. Behind him, a girl with sky blue hair tripped, the toe of her flats catching on the way out of the plane. Her fall sent her into Edward, who caught her.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, sir! Are you okay?" Edward helped her stand, handing her a suitcase she had dropped.

"Yes. What about you Miss...?" He held out his hand.

"Lillian. Lillian Runbeck. And yes, I'm quite alright," she answered shaking his hand. As she spoke, he looked her over, taking in her red plaid mini skirt and skin tight top.

"You may be ensured of my pleasure of knowing that such a lovely lady such as yourself is not hurt. May I inquire as to where you are heading?"

"The Blue Dragon. And yourself, Mr...?"

"Noven. Edward Noven. It must be my lucky day because that is my destination too." Lillian gave him a shy smile and started walking, Edward easily keeping pace beside her. "May I have the pleasure of escorting you to the hotel, Miss Runbeck?"

Readily accepting, the two left the airport together, taking a taxi to the Blue Dragon.

The hotel was lovely. With navy blue walled decorated with delicate white swirls that created flowers, the lobby created a welcoming environment.After they were situated in there rooms- which were right next to each other- Edward invited Lillian to join him for dinner. "Isn't it a bit late for dinner, Mr. Noven? Why it's nearly Eleven!"  
"On the contrary. Paris is six hours ahead of New York, making it only five and the perfect time for dinner. Room service here is delightful if you would like to join me in my room." His charming smile drew her in and soon they were enjoying cold cut sandwiches with soda, closely followed by ice cream.

"So, Miss. Runbeck. I would love to know more about you." Lillian wiped her hands and took a sip of soda before asking what he would like to know. She was warming up to him, letting her guard down.

"What do you do for work? How old are you?" A slight pause.

"I am twenty four and I am currently between jobs."

"Oh? Then what are you looking for, job wise," Edward asked, leaning across the table towards her.

"Crime investigation. And yourself?" She flashed him a sweet smile.

"I'm the director of the police department in New York."  
"Ooh, big shot." He gave a small laugh before getting up to sit on the bed. Lillian followed. "What do you think about Azrael?" The director frowned. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be a buzz kill."

He waved it off. "It's fine. I think Azrael doesn't know what they're getting into. They are a child playing grown up."

She shook her head. "I think Azrael knows what they're doing. The things they have done." She shivered. Edward put his arm around her and pulled her to his side, smiling."

"Like I said, They don't know what they're getting into. We'll catch them soon enough." He grunted in pain. Looking down, he saw that a small dagger had found its way into his side.

"Lillian, you-" Her smile was no longer sweet.

"I told you not to doubt me, Edward." She twisted the dagger, making him scream. Incapacitated from the pain, he did nothing as she pushed the weapon but fall backwards to escape it. "Shh. You'll wake the neighbors, honey." She got up and crossed the bed so she was closer to him, pulling out the dagger. "Do you still think me a child, Edward? I was hurt, you know, to find that's how you think of me."

The dagger was placed at the base of his throat as he tried to get up. "Now, now. Play nice."

"Azrael."

"Yes?"

Tears welled up in his eyes. "I don't want to die. She looked at him with disgust and pity.

"No one wants to die, Edward. But we all will. I'm just speeding up the process." She removed the dagger from his throat and slit his wrists vertically. His tears spilled over and soon he was a sobbing mess. "Get a hold of yourself. Regardless of what you think of me, I want you to die with a _little_ dignity at least." As his blood drained, his sobs grew weaker as he did. Dipping her fingers in the pool of blood that was forming, she wrote above the headboard _'Don't doubt me again.'_

Washing up and removing her finger prints took a solid half hour, but by one, she was closing Edward's door, not looking back on the now lifeless body.

By eight, she was wishing the lobby man a good day and was off to enjoy a few days in the city of love before the body was found.

Three days later, Edward was found by the maid service and I was moving on to Tucson, Arizona.


	4. The Happening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one isn't as bad as the other chapters! <3

"Edward Noven, Director of the police here in New York, has been found dead in his hotel room in Paris, France early this morning. It has been said that the serial killer known as Azrael is responsible for this gruesome death. It is said that they have left a calling card marking Edward as their victim above the headboard of the bed where he lay, written on the wall in his blood."

I got on a bus in Phoenix, Arizona, the news playing over the radio. "Is this bus heading to Tucson?" I asked in what I hoped was a passable British accent. Sighing, the driver nodded, so I headed to the only empty seat available after paying the fee.Just before the bus started to move, a man came running up, getting on just before the doors closed. I have to admit, he was cute.

"Sorry for the late arrival. Tucson, I hope?" He looked familiar. Jay, I believe his name was. He was on the news just hours before. That's right! Detective Jay Norman. He was one of three candidates to be voted in to become the new director.

The driver sighed and nodded once more. Jay sighed with relief and played the fee before walking towards the only open seat... right next to me. "Is this seat taken miss?"  
"Not at all. Have a seat." I gave him what I hoped was a bright smile. He sat down, placing a briefcase on his lap. Opening it, he pulled out what looked like a case report as the bus started moving. "What are you reading?" He shifted.  
"Witness reports." He sounded distracted, which meant it was the perfect opportunity for me to get information out of him.  
"That's right. You're a detective, right? Are you, um, investigating the director's death? Such a terrible thing!" I couldn't help but think back to the night he died. It was unfortunate that he had to die so soon, I was really starting to enjoy his company. However, he had unknowingly aggravated me. To call me a child! Oh, but he had been so nice, trying to comfort me when he thought I was helpless. I don't expect anyone will do that again if they knew who I was.  
"Yes, an unfortunate occurrence. He was my boss, you know. However, I hope to learn from his death and not underestimate Azrael again." I caught sight of pictures taken of his body and gasped. I hadn't realized just how careless I had been with Edward.  
"Yes, underestimating her seems to be a careless thing to do." I said breathlessly.

"Why do you suppose Azrael is female?" Jay was looking at me with suspicion. I pointed to the next picture, which showed my bloody writing.  
"The, uh, writing isn't hurried, so you can see how clearly she took care in each stroke. A typical Male wouldn't care if the words were messy, but she obviously does." I lower my hand, which had been tracing my work. "I apologize if I am intruding in your work, Detective." He only shook his head.  
"Not at all, miss. In fact you may have just given me my first lead. So thank you very much!" I held in a laugh that bubbled up at his enthusiasm. "It's been a rough start for this Azrael case. Actually, This is the first clue I've gotten about who she might be since it's started." He carefully replaced the papers, making sure they were in a neat pile before closing the case. His excited air had been replaced by a tired one.

"Is that why you're going to Tucson? To investigate the Director's death?" He only shook his head. "To inform a family member?"

"It is unfortunately so. The director has a daughter-had a daughter, I mean. I don't suppose he can have anything now." I shook my head. I didn't want to think of him as human. As a father and a friend of another. I couldn't understand it. This pain in my chest, I couldn't feel guilty for his death, could I? No. It's impossible. If not a sinner, Edward was an arrogant fool.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't know he had a child." Jay looked at his hands folded in lap.

"Not many people did. They didn't get along very well." I looked out the window, not wanting to look at him any longer. I told myself it was because he, too, was a sinner, but I knew it was because it didn't feel right to intrude on his grief. The nearly two hour drive was silent, unbearable.

When it was finally over, I quickly exited the bus. "It was a pleasure meeting you, detective. I hope all goes well." I was gone before he had a chance to reply. I was walking into a dollar store when my wrist was grabbed. When I looked behind to see who it was, I found that ragged man had his gross, dirty hand clasped around my white lace glove. I tried to move away as quickly as I could to avoid a scene. I didn't work my way up like this just to kill a man in such a public manner.

"Hey, Hot stuff. How 'bout you come with me?" I tried again, inching my hand toward the switch blade that hung on my key chain. "I didn't hear a 'yes', sweet cheeks." Ugh, I couldn't stand him. He leaned his face close to mine, jerking my arm to pull me closer.

"I respectfully ask you to get your hands off me." He laughed. This man had the audacity to laugh while he was assaulting me as well as ruining my favorite pair of gloves. My fingers grazed my blade. I was about to release it from its place when my other wrist was grabbed. I was really getting irritated. Could people just stop grabbing my wrists? Whoever the new guy was, he pulled me back, causing me to crash into his chest.

"Hello. If you could please let go of her, sir." Jay. I gave a great sigh of relief. I at least know the guy. The hobo that had originally grabbed me growled. I don't mean that metaphorically. No, he growled. On top of that, I think Jay might have made the guy piss his pants! Whatever the detective did, hobo let me go. This, however, was no advantage of mine, because Jay was still slightly pulling my other wrist, which put me off balance.

"Oh! I, uhh, I'm sorry, but could you, you know?" He had caught me, but now blood rushed to his face and he quickly let me go. Whatever had been so menacing before was gone. I studied his face, wanting to know what the hobo had seen.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" I had to laugh. He looked so confused. "What? What did I do?" I shook my head and walked past him into the store. He followed me in.

"You gonna follow me everywhere?" That stopped him. He looked at his feet and mumbled something about getting a soda. "Thanks by the way!" I said as I walked away. As I turned a corner, I caught sight of him. He was still looking at his feet, but his cheeks were flushed and his lips were turned up in a small smile. I walked away, trying to suppress the smile that grew on my own lips.

➻➻➻➻

Blood rushed to his face as Jay watched her walk away. "What the Hell am I thinking! I don't even know her name," he chided himself. But however much he tried, he couldn't stop thinking about her laugh. What on Earth could she have been laughing about? He couldn't fathom what she could have been thinking, trying to pull a knife on the guy, though, if he had to guess, it would probably be how best to shove it in his throat.

'Perhaps' he thought, 'it had been a terrible idea to grab her wrist. Until she knew it was me, she looked like the knife would be shoved in my throat!' He shivered but could not bring himself to think badly about this nameless girl, no matter how hard he tried.

'Snap out of it! You need to get to Dolly's house before it gets dark.' He took one last look at where she had disappeared before leaving. It's ridiculous , he told himself, that a stranger should catch his attention. 'Is it though?' He chanced a look behind him, hoping to see her, to catch even a glimpse. "What the hell?"

He turned back, catching her as she left the store. "Dinner," he asked breathlessly. She smiled.

"You're cute, detective. Sure. Dinner sounds nice. I'll be staying at a hotel down the street." Jay put his hands on his knees. He really hated running and hadn't known he had been so far away from the store. "Are you alright, Detective?"

He straightened up. "Yeah. I'm good. Anywhere you want to go?" She had to laugh.

"Had you nowhere in mind? That's fine. How about Eegee's," she continued as his face reddened. "Only in Tucson do they have an Eegee's. Be a shame not to visit at least once." He nodded, too embarrassed to speak. 'You idiot! She's just like any other woman. Don't let her get to your head.'

Laughing, she turned and started to walk away only to stop before she got three feet away. "Meet me at my hotel at five. We'll head over from there, okay?" He could only nod and stand there like an idiot.


	5. Date Night

Azrael stood in front of her mirror in the cheap hotel room she had rented out. _'It's for what has to be done_ after _dinner.'_ she told herself as she brushed her blue hair. _'I should cut it'_ she thought as she struggled with a knot. _'A pixie would be nice.'_ A knock on the door made her jump. "Who is it?"

"Jay." She opened the door to find him in hoodie and a pair of blue jeans. "I wasn't sure how to dress." She allowed a small smile. She herself was dressed in short shorts and a tank top. "That's fine. Just Eegee's. I, however, actually need to change. Come in. I won't be long." She stepped aside, allowing him to enter before closing the door.

Picking up the pile of clothes she paused. "I might need to shower. Sorry, I lost track of the time."

He waved it off.

"It's fine. I'm probably a bit early. I'll just wait here." He went over and sat down on the bed as she stepped into the bathroom. A few seconds later, water was running. Jay took this time to look around the room. It consisted of a bed, a white dresser with an attached mirror, a closet, and a window looking out on the city. After a few minutes of staring at a wall he got up and walked around. The closet was open just a bit, but it was enough to allow a sickly sweet smell to waft through the room. Behind him, the water was turned off, though he barely heard it.

Quickly, as if something drove him to do it, he opened the door to a wet, red floor. He backed away as the bathroom door opened, looking over his shoulder as the girl stepped out. "Something wrong?" She asked, looking at the open closet with a deadly look in her eyes. "You weren't snooping, were you?" Jay shook his head, fumbling for an explanation. As he stood there, she walked around him and saw the mess.

 _'Hm, this isn't my doing'_ Stooping down, she dabbed the red with a finger and brought it to her nose. _'Paint. How in the world did it get here?'_ She looked back at Jay, who looked as if knew what she was. "Paint, Detective. Must have been left here and knocked over when I put my things in there. Luckily, I hung everything." He looked relieved, as if the doubt he struggles with was that much less than when he opened the closet.

"Does paint go bad? It smells so sweet." She shrugged and went to sit on the bed. As he watched her, he took in her outfit. It consisted of black leggings and a loose fitting, purple striped tank top. Blood rushed to his face as she picked up her brush and studies him in turn.

 _'He's cute I guess'_ she thought as she brushed her hair. His hoodie had ridden up, showing the hem of a white tee. Through the loose fabric, she could tell that he was pretty fit. He readjust his hoodie, sealing away his figure from her prying eyes. She twisted half of her hair into a bun, leaving the rest freely falling.

"Ready to go?" she asked, picking up a black jacket that was hanging on the back of her bathroom door. Jay nodded, ready to put the sickly sweet smell and his doubts behind him.

➻➻➻➻

The date had gone well. At least he thought so. It had made his night. His week, actually. He had been swamped in work ever since Azrael had publicly let herself be known. Even before that his fellow police members had pushed towers of paper work on him. He had never minded, knowing that he no longer had anything to go home to except and empty bed and silent rooms. Now, now he figured that perhaps he did mind. 

His thoughts that night as he walked to his hotel, were of the way she had smiled. He grinned as he remembered the way she had flushed that beautiful red when he told her that she'd look wonderful in whatever color she chose to dye her hair. Right before she had thrown a fry at him to cover it up.

It had been the best night he'd had in ages. He didn't want the date to end. He just wanted to keep remembering.

 _"what is it that you do?"_ he'd asked. It had taken her a while to respond. He watched as her hands fidgeted with her food. Every part of his training told him she was willing to lie about it. When she answered, however, there was no uncertainty in those Lavender eyes. She had admitted that she wore contacts to change her eye color before they left her hotel.

 _"I travel."_ was her answered. The intensity in those eyes dared him to ask more. He had backed off, changing the subject. He quickly learned what was off limits: her past, what she did, and where she was from- she had given him a vague answer to that, only saying she was from New York.

They talked a lot about Jay, however. She questioned him relentlessly about his childhood, why he had become a detective, even his pets- or rather his lack of. His answers got more detailed with every question. He watched as she was upset when he told her why he had never had a pet, Watched when she laughed as his jokes, making his heart flutter with happiness.

Something was off about her. He couldn't put his finger on it, couldn't find the missing piece of the puzzle, but he assumed that it was just the nerves. Heaven knows he was nervous too. The night had gone on for three blissful hours. Jay had payed for the food and Lillian- oh god, even her name matched her undiluted beauty- had paid for sundaes at an ice cream shop between Eegees and her hotel. It was only after making sure she was safely in her room that he allowed himself to bid her good night. 

He watched as she pulled her hair from the small bun, watching the beautiful blue cascade down her shoulders. She gave him a hug and Jay answered with the only thing that seemed reasonable at the time, he gave her a little bow when she backed off a little, bringing her delicate hand to his lips for just a moment. Then, he straightened, turning around and left her standing there, that lovely blush spreading on her cheeks once more.

He collapsed him in hotel bed as soon as he entered the room with a contented sigh. The director's daughter had offered to let him stay with her until he had to leave again, but he had declined. The girl was mourning her father, he reasoned. That wasn't the only reason, though. Mingled into his thoughts of Lillian, was another woman. Her dark auburn curls that hugged the shape of her face. The eyes that had never been filled with sadness, not even when they had closed for the last time. 

He shook his head, trying to dislodge the memories. He refused to think about it. Refused to think about how he had held her hand when they made plans to move to Tucson. Instead, he focused on Lillian and fell into the first blissful night of sleep he's had in three years. 


End file.
